


Jeeves and the Very (Un)fortunate Experiment

by georgeodowd



Category: Jeeves & Wooster, Jeeves - P. G. Wodehouse
Genre: Awkward Embraces, Couch Cuddles, M/M, Oblivious!Bertie, Uncomfortable!Jeeves, accidental snogging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-07-25 22:30:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20033398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/georgeodowd/pseuds/georgeodowd
Summary: During a visit to the Drones, Bertie hears about a study that proves the health benefits of physical contact. Jeeves is, naturally, quite put out by the very idea, but cannot help rising to the challenge of running his own informal experiment to disprove the results. The only trouble is, it involves quite a bit of time with his arms round the young master, and things become dashed awkward!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> What ho! Here I am after a diverting decade away, having been tricked back into the thing by some rather fruity art on that site full of tumbling (or so they say; I've never actually seen any tumbles happening there). But all is sweetness and light, because I've been inspired to run these rowdy rotters through their paces once again, and this... well, this little number is the result. I might be inspired to migrate my previous works over here if you do like this one, so let me know!  
(Un-beta-d and all that rot, so please forgive any rough edges.)

‘Jeeves, I say,’ I I-sayed one afternoon after I had been poured into the daily raiments and parked upon the Chesterfield with a bracing cup of Oolong and the morning news.

‘Do you, sir?’ my man said.

‘I do, Jeeves, I do.’

He turned slightly from his dusting. ‘What do you say, sir?’

All this back-and-forth had served to shake me from the plot a bit, if you will, and it took a moment to get things back on track. ‘Well,’ I began. ‘I say.’

‘We have established that, sir,’ Jeeves said, and there was something a bit fruity in the way he said it.

I was not one to take the pip at this stage in the game, our relations having grown to a point where I was immune to a bit of teasing from this shining beacon in human form. It was not entirely proper for a gentleman’s gentleman to sass his gentleman, but I nearly found it enjoyable to take a bit of a rib from Jeeves. I certainly enjoyed it a great deal more than his attempts to manipulate the master without the master’s consent. He was still prone to doing just that when he felt the circs called for it, but as it usually turned out for the best for all and sundry (with the notable exception of a natty tie of mine or the like), I usually turned a blind eye.

But now I’ve truly run myself off the plot, so back we go.

‘Yes, Jeeves,’ I said a bit frostily, but it was all in the spirit of the thing, as you will understand after the aforementioned. ‘What I was trying to say is, I heard the most corking thing during last night’s visit to the Drones.’

‘Indeed, sir?’

‘Yes, indeed. It was positively mind-boggling. Something I’d never thought of. Life-changing, in fact. I can’t imagine I will ever see things the same way again.’

‘And what was it, sir?’

Here I hesitated. It was all well and good harping on the virtues of the thing, but there was one small sticking point. ‘Well, you won’t like it, Jeeves.’

‘No, sir?’

‘No. But I ask that you hear me out before you toss the lot in the pot, as it were.’

He paused for just the tiniest moment, and then returned to his dusting. ‘Very good, sir.’ When I did not immediately go on, he added: ‘I am listening, sir.’

I had half a mind to tell him to nip the dusting in the bud and turn and face me properly, but as it would be a dashed sight easier to deliver the revelation without that noble phiz pointed in my direction, I let the thing slide. ‘You see, the thing is, Jeeves, they’ve done studies about this.’

‘Studies, sir?’

‘Yes, studies. It’s scientific. So whatever you might be about to say about propra- propri-’

‘Propriety, sir?’

‘Yes, that’s just the ticket. Propriety. Whatever you might like to say about it, you can’t very well say the science johnnies haven’t done their homework, what.’

‘Sir,’ Jeeves said, letting his duster fall to idleness once again. ‘I can’t say anything until I know what it is you’re referring to.’ If there was a certain rummy whatsit in his voice, I determined not to let it affect me. Not until I got the thing out properly.

‘Well, that’s just the thing, Jeeves. It’s not something one is used to speaking about… well, with one’s man, if you get my drift.’

Jeeves did turn towards me now, setting the duster down on the mantle. ‘Sir?’ His voice held a note of caution, like one of those ‘TURN BACK NOW’ road signs that warns the unwary driver not to keep driving or they’ll head right over the edge of a cliff.

‘Oh, now, don’t get all steamed up, old fruit. It’s not that bad.’

Jeeves’s left eyebrow quirked just a fraction, as if to say, ‘Eh? Are you sure?’

‘It’s about, well…. It’s about the thera- The thero- Dash it, what’s the word?’

‘Therapeutic, perhaps, sir?’

‘That’s it! Yes, the therapeutic benefits of physical contact.’

Jeeves brow had unmistakably furrowed and I could tell I was in for it if I didn’t just get to the blasted point.

‘Now hear me out! It’s not what you think! You know the majority of us stinkers at the Drones are bachelors, some moreso by choice than others, but the point remains…. A man needs a good cuddle from time to time, Jeeves.’

Jeeves’s eyebrows were currently attempting to make an escape to the stratosphere. I’d never seen the man look so positively scandalised. I knew I had to act fast before he either shut me down like a misfiring factory machine or fainted dead away on the divan.

‘Now, as we all know, a married man has undiluted access to the stuff. Cuddles, that is to say.’

‘Sir,’ Jeeves gasped. ‘If I may. Please. Refrain from using that particular word.’

I gave out a bit of a laugh. Letting off some nervous steam, one might say. ‘Is it the word that offends you, Jeeves? Very well, then. Let us say… er…. Have you got a better one?’

Jeeves shook his head and said weakly, ‘Embrace, sir?’

‘Very good, well, if you will, embraces are the bread and butter of the married man’s daily life. But think of the bachelors! We go through life with nary more than a handshake on a good day. We are starving away for human touch! I had no idea it was true, but according to the science johnnies, we need it like we need oxygen!’

Jeeves looked as though he could use some, himself. Oxygen, that is. Or perhaps a good stiff one. Or maybe, simply more of the old h. t. But I was coming round to that.

‘I do not think so, sir,’ he wheezed.

‘They’ve performed a study, Jeeves! The top brains in the country! I know you’re the cream of the crop when it comes to intellectual pursuits, but I think you ought to at least give the study a read.’

He couldn’t bring himself to reply, but his left eyebrow gave a bit of a twitch.

‘I’ve had a copy ordered. At least, I think I have. Ol’ Glasswater said he’d have it sent round this afternoon. He’s got the hookups, you see. Said his cousin was part of the research committee.’

There was a pregnant pause, if you know what I mean.

‘Very….’ Jeeves took a deep, bracing breath. ‘Very good, sir.’

‘Well, when you’ve read it, let me know, won’t you?’

Jeeves nodded like a young sapling bending to the breeze, then drifted out of the room with all the presence of a passing cloud.


	2. Chapter 2

I did not give him much time to think up a plan to oil out of the discussion I still intended to hold. I wanted to break it to him easy, as per the previous conversation, but now it was time to strike while the thing was hot.

‘Jeeves,’ I said over breakfast the next morning.

‘Sir?’ He hesitated, watering pot in hand, as he leaned over the fern in the dining room.

‘I say, have you read that article I mentioned yesterday? You know the one. About cudd- embracing and all that.’

Jeeves’s expression immediately soured, and a few errant drops of water trembled out of the watering pot’s spout. I could tell he was thinking of some way out of it, but what else was there to say? ‘I have, sir,’ he admitted, as though the words tasted bad in his mouth.

‘Ah. Wonderful. And?’

Jeeves sighed and set the watering pot on the table, a breach of decorum that I could not fail to miss, though I’m sure I’ve missed all sorts of things like that on normal days. ‘I could not fault the science of it, sir. However-’

‘There it is then!’ I cried, unwilling to let him muddy the waters with further pontification. ‘So you agree?’

‘No, sir.’

‘You don’t agree.’

‘Yes, sir.’

I blinked, trying to make sense of this. ‘Er, Jeeves. What is it exactly that you do or do not agree with?’ I had to give the man his chance, if only so I could nip it in the bud soonest.

‘While I agree on principle with the research done, the study failed to take into consideration a number of other realistic factors, sir.’

‘Such as?’

‘Propriety, sir. While there may be benefit from having human contact with another, in theory, one must consider the psychological impact of such contact when the requisite trust and understanding are not in place. It could also be misconstrued, sir, and cause unwanted emotions. And most importantly, I believe it would be a breach of decorum so large the resulting discomfort would undo whatever benefit the proximity might have otherwise engendered.’

I fear Jeeves lost me about halfway through this rot, and I was forced to squint at him in disapproval. ‘Do you have the abridged version of that handy?’ I asked.

‘Sir, the British constitution does not allow for such things to actually provide the intended benefit.’

‘Eh?’ I wasn’t trying to be particularly thick, but he seemed to be dancing around something without just coming out and saying it. ‘Just come out and say it, Jeeves,’ I said.

Jeeves sighed, which was a very un-Jeevesian thing to do. ‘Physical contact of that nature when otherwise not prescribed by marriage would be overly awkward and uncomfortable, and thus, I don’t believe it would ultimately cause benefit. It is not in our nature, sir.’

‘Our nature, Jeeves?’

‘The people of Britain, sir.’

‘Ah. Right. I see. You’re going to stand by that, are you?’

‘I am, sir.’

This was the moment. Sally forth into the fray or retreat homewards with one’s tail between the legs, I mean what? My ancestors would not have stood for a Wooster taking the latter course, his already being at home notwithstanding.

‘Are you prepared to test your theory, Jeeves?’

Jeeves blinked a dash and two dots before answering. ‘Test, sir?’

‘Yes. In the name of science. I mean these johnnies in the study did the proper thing. You simply can’t go about refuting their claims unless you’ve followed the proper procedure.’

‘Proper procedure, sir?’

I could tell I was now getting into the thick of it, and it was time to lay it on in full. ‘Yes, Jeeves. You’ll have to perform a proper experiment to denounce their findings. Which means, you shall have to consent to cuddle.’

I could actually see the colour drain from my man’s face, like wine let out of the bottle, and I admit, it took me a moment to recover. Jeeves, I’m afraid, did not recover.

‘Sir?’ he croaked, and he may have wavered on his pins a bit.

‘There’s no finer way to test it out than giving it a go yourself, eh?’

‘I think not, sir.’ Protest was already beginning to return some of the red stuff to his cheeks, and I saw now was the time to strike.

‘I propose a one week trial. We’ll reproduce what they did in the study. Thirty minutes a day of embracing.’

‘We… sir?’

‘Well, I’m the only other humanus about the place, so you’ll have to settle for me. Besides, I want in on this health benefit stuff, as well.’

‘No, sir.’

‘Yes, sir!’ I cried. ‘I mean, yes, Jeeves!’

He simply stared.

‘Listen, we’ll give it one week. If by the end of it, you’ve found yourself feeling all… awkward and nervous, what, we’ll throw in the towel and never speak of it again.’

Jeeves blinked, just the one dash this time. ‘I’m… not sure what to say, sir.’

At another time, this unprecedented event would have stopped Bertram cold in his tracks. Jeeves not knowing what to say! I say! But now was not the time for hesitation. There was only one proper response.

‘Say yes! Think of all the potential benefits you will bestow upon the young master, if you’re unwilling to think of self. Better nights of sleep, a more relaxed demeanour, better digestion, increased virility-’

Jeeves coughed. ‘Perhaps that’s enough, sir.’

‘Oh. Right. Yes. Just so. But all the same. Did you not once say you would do anything in service of one Bertram Wilberforce Wooster?’

I could see now he was beginning to regret ever having announced such a thing, even in the heat of the moment.

‘I believe, sir, that given the circumstances during which the words were uttered-’

‘Rot on the circumstances, Jeeves! The words were indeed uttered. I’m hardly asking you to put life and limb in danger. No appendages will be severed. No danger or harm will come. You might simply endure a mild bit of discomfort in the spirit of discovery. No harm, no foul, what?’

There was a pause while the great Jeevesian mind attempted to thwart my sound reasoning. But then- ‘One week, sir?’

‘One week!’

‘And then we may put this behind ourselves forever?’

‘If you wish to at that juncture, then yes, naturally!’

‘Very good, sir,’ he replied, indicating that there was nothing good about it at all.


	3. Chapter 3

I wished for our sessions to begin at once, and so I instructed Jeeves that one o’clock in the afternoon would be the allotted time for our experimentation to begin.

‘On the sofa, sir?’ he asked disapprovingly when the time came.

I was already seated, naturally, having got round a couple of b. and s.s by the time he oozed in with a look of utmost dissatisfaction painted on his map.

‘Yes, I say, where else?’

‘Nowhere at all would be an advisable location, sir.’

I frowned. I could sense a good deal of my favourite oojah-cum-spiff accessories would go missing after this, but if the thing landed me with nearly four hours of snuggling up to my favourite valet, well, one could say it was well worth the price.

‘Sit down, Jeeves,’ I instructed.

Had he been a lesser man, he could have been said to huff as he marched over to my side and perched on the edge of the sofa. As this was Jeeves, he simply emitted a discontented fug and kept his gaze fixed fixedly on the piano across the room.

‘Right, then,’ I said, my heart beating up into my throat with eagerness to begin.

Jeeves didn’t flinch.

‘I believe you’ll have to try to face me at least a bit, old sport,’ I tried.

A small disapproving noise emerged from his throat, but he twisted just a hair in my direction.

‘Good, good,’ I soothed. ‘Now. Let’s begin.’

I looked at the tower of manservant in front of me, and paused. It struck me I had no idea how to begin. I had only the vaguest notions of us cuddling up as naturally as gloves nestled in a drawer, arms wrapped around one another, perhaps a bit of nose nuzzling at a throat. It was all very tingly and warm when I thought about it. But the view before me didn’t seem to want to yield to that vision.

I slung an arm across Jeeves shoulders, and I felt just the tiniest tremor beneath the layers of fabric. Then I attempted to sling the other arm across his front, but given the space between us and the bad angle, it didn’t quite reach to his far shoulder, and I ended up grasping at a lapel to save my mitt from falling into his lap.

‘Eh?’ I said, trying to warm us up to the thing.

Jeeves looked very pained.

‘I think it’s up to your point in the participation now,’ I said softly, with as much encouragement as I could muster.

‘What-’ Jeeves cleared his throat. ‘What would you have me do, sir?’

‘Well, I suppose for starters, you’re supposed to bung your arms round the y. m., you know.’

I felt the air leave his lungs, but after a moment’s pause, he reached one arm up to rest gently against my back, and the other hand sort of patted tentatively at my shoulder.

It was a dashed awkward affair, and I could feel my spirits slide. My arms were already starting to ache. This wasn’t at all what I had imagined, but perhaps Jeeves was right. Perhaps we Britons were not made for this sort of thing, what? Maybe I ought to throw in the towel now and call it a good try. But something in the ol’ Wooster blood surged force, demanding conquest.

I scooted closer until my leg was pressed very solidly into Jeeves’s. He let out a little hiss of air, but did not comment. I attempted to wedge my torso more solidly into his own, closing the circle of my arms tighter about his shoulders. He was as stiff as a board, and it felt something like hugging a statue. You’ll wonder how this Wooster knows what hugging a statue feels like, but that is a story for another time and place.

‘Do you know,’ I said, suddenly struck with an idea. ‘I think it might work better if I do this.’ I gave Jeeves no warning before lifting up the old jambos and depositing them across his lap like a warm blanket. Suddenly the angle was much better and I could shimmy right up to my man. It wasn’t quite the supple snuggle I had envisioned before, but it was a good step in the right direction. I tucked my head under his chin and closed my eyes. It wasn’t perfect, but it was dashed nice.

At some point I felt Jeeves stir, and it was as though someone had cranked up the heat and the ice sculpture I was currently wrapped about had finally begun to melt. His arms relaxed just a tich, and the stiffness went out of his spine, and I daresay his cheek even came to rest atop my head.

I felt as though I could very nearly doze off from the comfort of it all, and I was about to do just that, triumphant in my success, when the kitchen timer went off.

‘That’s thirty minutes, sir.’ Jeeves scooped my legs off his lap and stood, depositing me gracefully back on the sofa in one smooth motion, before galloping into the kitchen to turn the blasted thing off.

He returned moments later, a glass of soda water in hand, which he offered to me without a word.

I took the proffered glass - a peace offering? - and stretched lithely, if lithely is the word I want. Something like a cat, anyway.

‘Well, Jeeves, that wasn’t so bad, eh?’

‘Indeed, sir,’ was all he would offer on that subject, but it left me feeling very less than indeed, myself.

I mean, I had had a jolly good time of it, what? If it really had been such torment for the man, what did that say about me as a cuddling partner? Was I too bony? Too clingy? Too full of angles and pinions and whatnot?

‘Jeeves,’ I said round dinner that evening. ‘Was I too bony?’

‘Sir?’ he said in that ‘please do not broach this topic ever again’ tone.

‘You know, for the cuddling- er, embracing thing. Was that it? I know I’m not all mushy curves like some toothsome filly, but I didn’t think that…. Well, perhaps I’m just not a pleasant specimen to hang onto, you know?’

A war was taking place on Jeeves face. I don’t mean like two armies facing off and crashing against one another on a vast plain. Or maybe I do. But there were flashes of everything from disbelief to pity to shock to anger, or maybe it was nothing at all. It’s very hard to tell with Jeeves, you know.

‘No, sir.’

‘I’m not a pleasant specimen to hang onto?’

Jeeves looked away in what I believe would be called an eye roll on anyone else. ‘I meant, sir, that that is not the reason I found the exercise unfavourable.’

‘Oh. So I am a pleasant specimen to hang onto?’ I knew I had the man trapped in a corner now, and I couldn’t bring myself to let go.

Jeeves looked like he’d got a whiff of something that went bad round about two weeks prior. ‘I couldn’t say, sir.’

I frowned. ‘Well, am I or am I not?’

‘It is not my place to say, sir.’

‘Who else is going to say? It’s not as though I go around snuggling with every Tom, Dick, and Harry on the street.’

Jeeves looked positively scandalised. ‘No, sir,’ he agreed emphatically, though whether he was agreeing with whether I didn’t or whether I shouldn’t was another matter entirely.

I figured I would not press the matter any further for now. These things were best eased into, after all.


	4. Chapter 4

The following afternoon, it was time for round two. I was confident that it would prove every bit the same hypothesis as the last - that is to say, that cuddling was jolly nice, especially with a bird as delightful as Jeeves - and if I was lucky, maybe I’d even get Jeeves to admit so, himself.

Jeeves appeared from the mists at the appointed time, but he did not immediately sit down, despite my expectant looks.

‘If I might be permitted to observe, sir,’ he began.

I sensed rebellion on the horizon, and I stiffened. ‘Now, Jeeves,’ I said warningly.

‘It is only, sir, that this might be better done standing up.’

‘Standing, you say?’

‘Yes, sir. The sofa is awkward.’

‘Well. Alright.’ I couldn’t argue with that. If he was willing to continue on with the thing and simply wanted to try some new positions, who was I to fault him? I stood and came round to face him.

I suppose I was expecting him to instigate the thing this time, as a show of good faith, but he merely stood there, gazing at a spot just past my left shoulder.

‘Did you set that blasted kitchen timer again?’ I asked.

‘Yes, sir,’ he said, still not looking at me.

‘Well good, let’s get going then. I’d like to get my money’s worth.’

His mouth twitched in what might be called a wince on any other face. I figured there was no time to lose. I reached up and wrapped my arms round his shoulders, pressing my face into the side of his neck. There was still a good bit of distance between us at the waist, and so it was a bit of a stretch, but once I latched on, I did not plan to let go.

For a few moments, Jeeves did nothing, and I felt the ego melt just a bit. I mean to say, was it so bad embracing the y. m. for a half an hour?

Then, with a sigh of defeat, Jeeves raised his arms and wrapped them round the corpus - that is to say, mine - and scooted just a bit forward so we were no longer leaning towards each other like two opposing sides of the London Bridge.

A certain electric whatsit fizzed through me as I felt his front press along my front, and if I trembled, let it not be said it was from weakness. I mean to say, this was really corking stuff! I snuffled a bit closer under his collar, and even though he was as still as a rock, I could feel Jeeves was practically humming like a live wire, too. This must be the much talked-about health benefits doing their magic!

We stood that way for what felt like some time, and I couldn’t help but hum a bit of a ditty under my breath as a way of calming the nerves. It was a bit strange hearing the pulse of my man race just under my nose, and I’m no doctor chappie, but it sounded like the man was in the middle of a marathon. Had to be good for the old cardio-v., all this cuddling. I say, did the benefits never end!

As it turned out, they did. In fact, as I was to find that night, there was rather a downside as well. Now don’t get me wrong. It was a smashing affair all round, and I simply did not want to let go when that bally timer rang out its shrill tones from the kitchen, but Jeeves, being Jeeves, could not simply let the thing go, and so he gracefully extricated himself from my arms, if extricated is the word I want, and loped over to shut the thing off, and by then the magic spell was broken, what?

I thought no more of it, except with a sort of chummy smugness at being so right about the whole thing, until it was time for bed.

Jeeves went about his whole routine of undressing the master and turning down the bedclothes, but it was as though my body was expecting him to linger a bit longer - and a bit closer, if you know what I mean. It felt as if I’d trained it for a bit more of the close stuff, and Jeeves simply legging it out of there like a small-time crook with a sack full of cash just wouldn’t do.

‘Er, Jeeves?’ I said as he was halfway out the door.

‘Sir?’ he asked, not quite turning all the way back.

‘You don’t think I could get a sort of a nightcap, do you?’

He looked at me a bit quizzically but seemed amenable enough. ‘Certainly, sir, allow me to-’

‘No, I don’t mean the kind you drink.’

He turned back to me with all the speed of a glacier melting. ‘Sir?’

‘You know, just a few more minutes of the hot stuff. I’m sure it will help me sleep.’

Jeeves quirked an eyebrow. ‘What… hot stuff, specifically, are you referring to, sir?’

I made a vague gesture somewhere in the vast oceans between our persons. ‘You know….’

Jeeves gave me a wilting look. ‘Sir, are you suggesting that we exceed the recommended thirty minutes a day? It might skew the results of my study.’

‘Dash your study, Jeeves. The results are already in! This stuff works! I already feel lighter, healthier, breezier, you know… the whole enchilada!’

‘Do you, sir?’

‘I do! Why, I mean to say, don’t you?’

Jeeves did that strange thing again where his face seemed to be the meeting ground of some great battle. ‘I could not say, sir. It is early days, yet.’

‘Well, very good then, and all that. But I can’t see how another five minutes is going to hurt anything. Not to mention we ought to round out the numbers a bit, as you take your time between setting that dashed timer and finally succumbing to my warm embrace.’

Jeeves looked vaguely ill at this last emittance. I knew I was tiptoeing along the tightrope of that dashed word Jeeves loves so bally much - propriety, what - but at some point it was better to just have out with it rather than dance round the thing too much. Especially when it comes to Jeeves, who takes an especially perverse delight in dancing round things.

‘You know that lavender ascot I purchased last week?’ I said, waving the thing between us like a bribe. Well, not that I was actually waving it. It was tucked safely away beneath my socks in case of an ascot-napping in the night. But you know what I mean. The idea of it was waved about. At any rate, I couldn’t believe what I was about to do. That lavender ascot was simply the bee’s knees. And here I was about to trade it for another five minutes with my arms round Jeeves's neck.

‘Yes, sir,’ Jeeves said, perking up a bit like a dog who knows it’s about to get a bone.

‘I could be tempted to see reason, you know. About how it clashes so terribly with my complexion.’

‘It does, sir,’ he said, softening just a hair.

‘Could you perhaps come closer and remind me about that? I require a full, detailed explanation.’

Jeeves glided closer, a wary something on his map. ‘I could, sir.’

‘Don’t leave out a thing,’ I said, and launched myself at him.


	5. Chapter 5

But back to the problematic bit, as I had promised earlier. You see, after that delightful 5-minute interlude (which you had better believe Jeeves timed with a pocket watch clutched just behind my right shoulder the entire time), I was tucked into bed, in anticipation of a blissful night of rest.

But after Jeeves had biffed off and doused the light, I lay awake, staring at the ceiling. That electric humming that had started up in me that very afternoon had returned, and I found I simply could not shut it off. It seemed to have taken on a mind of its own, and it demanded more of Jeeves’s person. His person against my person, you understand.

I knew that to ring the bell or rise from my bed and interrupt his nighttime activities was crossing a line so far from the right and proper that even I wasn’t within sight of it yet, but that didn’t help me turn off and go to sleep. I began to wish I came with a switch installed, much like the light in my bedroom.

Eventually I dozed off, but it was only to toss and turn like a ship lost at sea for most of the night. When the curtains were thrown wide the next morning, I felt nearly as awful as I did after a late night at the Drones.

‘Jeeves,’ I said miserably, throwing an arm over my eyes.

‘Sir?’ There was a trace of amusement in his tone, and I moved my arm a hair to squint at him out of one peeper. When I did not reply, he continued, ‘Is it possible you did not enjoy a restful night of slumber, sir?’

‘It’s no use laughing at me Jeeves,’ I said testily. ‘Even you couldn’t have predicted this side effect.’

‘No, sir?’

‘No. You only expounded on discomfort and awkwardness.’

‘And what did you feel during your night of rest, if I may be so bold, sir?’

I uncovered the other eye. ‘I say, is this what you meant?’

A shrewd look came over his phiz then, and I felt the seas of triumph shrivel up in my breast. 

‘It was perhaps not my direct meaning, sir, but it certainly falls under the same domain. I am willing to conclude the experiment at this juncture, sir, if you are.’

A swell of courage rose within my breast. A Wooster does not back down, simply because the tide turns in the middle of battle. ‘No, Jeeves, I am not. A full week it shall be. I suppose we’ll just skip the extra credit before bed.’

‘Very good, sir,’ he offered, and if it was not an entirely very good ‘very good’, well, it was a start.


	6. Chapter 6

The thing went on in similar terms until the fourth night of the fourth day. I was still tossing and turning a bit at night, but I wasn’t about to concede that point to Jeeves, who I rose to meet each morning determined to look as dewy as a fresh flower and as well rested as a, well, as a well-rested thing.

On the fourth night, something changed.

‘I say,’ I said, not even aware I was about to I-say something at all.

‘Sir?’ Jeeves prompted, folding the shirtfront gently into the wardrobe.

‘Don’t you think we might try this embracing thing lying down? I mean, to get all the right vari-whatsits covered.’

Jeeves froze in his folding. ‘Variables, sir?’

‘Yes, that’s the one.’

‘And no, sir.’

‘No, what, Jeeves?’

He turned to regard me like a master regarding his dog after it’s had a long bath in the mud and now wishes to re-enter the domicile. ‘No, I do not think we should introduce that particular variable, sir.’

‘Why not? Only I get a bit fidgety standing for so long. I suspect it would be much more comfortable were we horizontal.’

Jeeves’s eyebrow went up like a victory flag planted on the battlefield. ‘Did I not predict as much, sir? Forgive me, but I did suggest it would be a very uncomfortable endeavour.’

‘And I’m saying, in order to be perfectly fair, we ought to try all the options! I think it would be the most comfortable thing in the world were we lying down. I very nearly fell asleep that first time on the sofa.’

Jeeves had seen his clear victory begin to slip, and his face became wild. ‘No, sir. That is out of the question, sir.’

‘But why, dash it, Jeeves?’ A corking idea suddenly popped into the old noggin, and I let loose a grin. ‘I’ll have to accuse you of unfairly rigging the experiment, and all your findings will be null and void. And then you shall have to embrace me for thirty minutes every day for the rest of your life, in order to confer the undeniable health benefits such activity brings.’

I think had he seen a spectre walk right through the walls at that moment, Jeeves could not have looked more horrified. Which is to say, about as horrified as the average person upon seeing they’ve improperly balanced the chequebook. These things had to be calibrated differently for Jeeves.

‘Sir,’ he whispered, as though all the steam had gone out of him. ‘You don’t know what you’re asking.’

‘I know perfectly well what I’m asking. You tuck me into bed and wrap yourself right round the young master for a solid thirty minutes, and we’ll call it a night.’

‘In my uniform, sir?’

‘Well I suppose you’ll remove all the necessary bits. Just like when you’re polishing the silver, what?’

‘Sir, allow me to confirm in detail exactly what you’re asking.’

I could see his plan. He intended to scare me off it, what. I was not about to let him gain steam.

‘No, Jeeves. Doff the outer layers and climb in. I won’t hear anymore about it.’

Somewhere deep down I knew I was scandalising the poor man right down to the core of his being, and he might never recover fully from it. But if it meant he’d consent to cuddling Bertram as I drifted off to sleep, I felt I could take the risk. After all, his Viking constitution would see him through.

I slid between the sheets, a triumphant smile plastered on the phiz, and closed my eyes, figuring I’d give Jeeves a few moments of privacy before he slid in next to me.

There was a long pause, a rustling of garments, and then- ‘Sir?’

I cracked a lid and gazed up at him. ‘Jeeves?’

‘Are you sure, sir?’

‘Never been surer. Hop in.’

The poor cove looked like he was headed to the guillotine, and I tried not to be offended, but in short order he summoned his courage, flung back the bedsheets, and rolled in beside me.

My body gave one of those electric buzzes, a jolly strong one this time, and I rolled over to meet him, my arms finding their way round his neck as his slithered like two suspicious snakes round my midsection. Then we were coiled together, and it felt like the absolute tops! I mean to say, it was the balliest bee’s knees that ever kneed. There wasn’t really a way to rest the old noggin on his shoulder, one being obscured by the pillow and the other up in the air, so I consented to merely resting my forehead against his chin. It somehow wasn’t enough, though, so I slung a leg over his hip for good measure.

He felt more like a block of ice than ever. Not to say that he was cold, for it was the opposite, but he was about as immovable as one of those marble chappies one finds in museums.

‘Jeeves,’ I said softly, trying not to spook him.

He made a noise in the back of his throat, but was incapable of reply.

‘I say,’ I I-sayed. ‘If you could just relax a bit more, this would be a dashed sight more comfortable.’

‘I… I don’t think I can, sir.’

‘You can’t?’

‘No, sir. I am experiencing exactly the discomfort I spoke of at the outset of this very unfortunate experiment.’

‘Ah. A self-fulfilling prophecy, what?’

‘Sir?’ he said into my hairline.

‘I mean to say, you intended that you would feel this way, and so you do. You’ve only to change your expectations, and the whole experience will shift. I mean, look at me. I went into the thing expecting nothing but sweetness and light. And here I am having the time of my life. Take a page from my book, Jeeves. Intend to have a good time, and you shall!’

I heard a small noise, like a sheep sighing on a distant hillside, which usually indicated an expression of Jeevesian disapproval, but no words came.

Content to let the thing rest there, I closed my eyes, snuggled just a bit closer, and let the bliss wash over me. I must have dozed off at some point, for when I woke, Jeeves body was limp, his breathing washed steadily over my forehead, and I had to conclude that - by some miracle, mind you - my man had fallen asleep!

Here it was, at last! Proof that I was right. If Jeeves could fall into a relaxed slumber while still clothed in his base layers and tucked into the master’s bed, why, this embracing had to be a real soporific stunner. If you could somehow bottle the thing up and sell it in stores as a sleeping draught, you’d be rich in no time!

I pulled the dial back just a tinge to witness this miracle of the sleeping Jeeves. I felt like one of those chappies who biffs off to the forest to catch a glimpse of a napping bear. And I felt a similar trepidation, because who was to say Jeeves wouldn't bite my face off the moment he woke?

A stunning transformation had come over his map, though, and it quickly distracted me from this Jeeves-as-a-bear reverie. The battlegrounds where emotion clashed were completely empty, the terrain was slack, and the mouth was just ever so slightly askew, letting in and out a gentle breeze. It smelled dashed nice, I must say, and I leaned in just a bit for a closer enjoyment. I must have miscalculated, however, because I came in for a just a sniff and ended up brushing lips with my man. A dashed rummy sensation washed over me, much like the electric experience of before, but with the dial turned up to ten. Maybe even eleven. I pulled back with a gasp, and it was this gasp which woke Jeeves.

‘Sir,’ he said, cracking open an eye. ‘Did you kiss me, sir?’

There was a very rummy whatsit in his one-eyed gaze, and I took the opportunity to put a few inches between us on the mattress.

‘Merely an accident, my good man. I was merely coming in to catch a whiff of your air.’

Jeeves looked put out beyond all measure and his head raised up off the pillow. ‘Does it smell bad, sir?’

‘Oh no. No, not at all. Quite the contrary, old fruit. It smells quite spiffing. Almost like something a man would want to bottle up and carry about on his person when he needed a bit of jazzing up.’

Jeeves looked at me as though I suddenly started speaking in Latin curses. ‘Sir, I believe we need to end this experiment immediately.’

‘What?’ I cried, shooting up off the pillow. You have to understand, that baffling lip bump, accidental or no, was the stuff dreams are made of. Specifically, the stuff my dreams had been made of lately. I had only just put two and two together. This, it seemed, was exactly what the corpus was crying out for, and here Jeeves was trying to put the kibosh on it just as soon as it had reached the good part. ‘How we will reach a conclusion, Jeeves!’ I added. ‘I’m only just now making very important discoveries!’

‘About my breath, sir?’ he asked pretty rummily, trying to disentangle himself from the bedsheets.

‘No, Jeeves. Well, I mean, yes, dash it, that, too! But more importantly, the next step in this cuddling- er, embracing journey!’

Jeeves froze, one leg dangling off the edge of the bed with the trouser cuff ridden halfway up his leg. ‘Next step, sir?’ he asked, very breezily.

‘Yes, dash it! I didn’t mean to bring the lips into the thing! But I’m not sorry I did. It was splendid, and I’d like to do it again. I hadn’t thought of extending the embrace all the way to the mouth.’

‘You want to kiss me again, sir.’ There was only the faintest whiff of a question in it.

‘I say, yes!’

They say when glaciers melt, you can hear the most stupendous cracking noises from miles away, like the very earth is coming apart at the seams. Although I could not actually hear Jeeves make any cracking noises, it was a similar transformation.

With the grace of a gazelle leaping o’er wheat in the field - if it’s wheat they leap, that is - Jeeves threw the counterpane back over the both of us, leapt into my arms, and launched into a lip embrace so fruity I thought I might just have died and gone to heaven. I mean to say, if there’s no room in heaven for doing the old tongue tango with Jeeves, I’m not sure I want to go.

And that, in a nutshell, is how I convinced Jeeves that this cuddle therapy stuff was truly topping, indeed. And to make a merry story even merrier, I got the added bonus of many more than the agreed-upon hours of embracing with my man, and just how many of those hours featured lip-locking, well, it wouldn’t be _preux_ to say.


End file.
